


Heavens Graceful Hands [DISCONTINUED]

by Trode19



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demons, First Kiss, Hell, M/M, Touch-Starved Dean, au-ish, injured wing, kinda wing!kink, mentions of nudity, mentions of torture, protective!Dean, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-01-18 15:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trode19/pseuds/Trode19
Summary: Dean is stuck in hell and it's up to Castiel, Angel of the Lord, to retrieve him. Things go askew for the two when they fail to escape after Castiel breaks his wing and they have to stay out of the prying eyes of demons and hell-creatures for what feels like weeks. During that time, is Dean finally finding someone else besides Sam and Bobby to trust? To possibly...love?He doesn't remember the answer when he resurrects but Castiel does, and so do the readers.*Based off a Tumblr theory* *Kind of AU/UA-ish* *Slow Updates*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally on wattpad, and I'm new to writing on Ao3, so uh, If there is any problems in reading it, just let me know in the comments.
> 
> P.S: I'm new to SPN, I'm only up to season 10 (cause my wifi sucks atm), so try not to spoil in the comments. 
> 
> P.P.S: The fic is labelled Teen+, but it may change in future depending on how I'm feeling.

Castiel slipped past the gates of hell, stomach churning at the fact he was in hell. He knew he had a job to do though. Dean Winchester, The Righteous Man and Michael's vessel, was stuck in hell after selling his soul, and he had broken the first seal only a month ago in human time. So Castiel had been sent to venture into the pit and retrieve his brothers vessel and bring him back to the surface of Earth to fulfil his role in the apocalypse. Brother verses' Brother. A story recreated. That's all they had told him.

Castiel stalked through the dark corridors and sounds of screams and groans echoed in his ears as he shielded his presence from hell's eyes. He followed his grace's indication towards the Righteous Man, the duty given to him since he was the one with the power to find him simply with his will. One of the reasons he was chosen in the first place, as it was foretold in the story of reaching the final Paradise for humans.

Before Castiel eyes the corridor changed and he blinked in confusion, frowning slightly. He wondered if his newly acquired vessel would be able to handle going through the pit, but he shook it off. Jimmy was a devoted man who would endure much for his fathers orders, just as Castiel would. He was sure the man would be an angel in another reality. It also made sure he didn't burn out the eyes of his charge.

Castiel gingerly followed the corridor, screams piercing and sharp as he got closer to the darkly shadowed the doorway. His lips felt dry and cracked from the dry heat, and he wondered if he'd bleed if he moved them to speak. Humans did, so would he now that he was in a vessel?

Castiel stepped through the doorway, greeted with the sight of blood, flesh and organs, the smell of metallic blood and body waste overpowering his human senses. He resisted the urge to gag, something he had never experienced, and looked around. The screams weren't coming with Dean Winchester's soul, as he expected, but he could see how ragged the soul was even as it slowly skinned the shrieking man. His presences made the Righteous Man freeze in his torture, looking up at him.

He could see the jaded forest eyes, ones that reminded him of the Garden in Heaven. His father would be amazed by the beauty yet horror that was kept in the mans soulful eyes. The soul opened his lips, looking pained even as he tried to speak, lips bleeding from biting.

"Are you next?" His voice was deep and hoarse, scrapping against his vocal chords. It pained Castiel to see his brothers vessel like this.

"No. I am Castiel. I'm here to grip you tight and raise you from perdition." He hoped the man would not resist his words.

"I thought I made a deal to be the torturer not the tortured..." Dean's voice sounded almost fearful as he looked down at his bloodied hands, ignoring the whimpers of the tortured soul on the table.

"You won't be either. Come with me, we have work for you." Castiel offered his hand to the man.

"'We'?" 

"God and his angels." Dean scoffed, placing the knife down on the table. Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

"There's no such thing. If there was, why would God leave me in hell in the first place?" He said bitterly with tangled anger.

"The Lord has many jobs, but you are needed now." His hand still reached for the soul.

"...Sam sold his soul for me, didn't he?" His eyes darkened with sorrow. Castiel tilted his head again.

"Sam?" He frowned. "No soul will be exchanged. God has ordered me to retrieve you and take you back to your body so you can fight in the apocalypse."

"Apocalypse?" Dean's eyes widened as he grabbed the Angels shoulders. "Is Sam okay?!"

"Your brother...? He is alive." Castiel took the souls hands off his shoulders, still holding one in a gentle grasp. "We must go now. Father expected me in heaven soon."

"You're...re-aliving me? Giving me another chance without someone else's ass on the line?" Dean's hand slipped from his grasp and he frowned, brows furrowing gently as he stepped closer to the tainted yet bright soul.

"You don't think you deserve to be saved, do you?" He was still and unresponsive and yet Castiel knew just from the projecting hatred and shame. Castiel's hand rose and fingers brushed again the strong jaw of the character before he turned away from the other, not watching the reaction from the soul. "We must leave soon before the gateway closes." He instructed and Dean nodded jerkily, still seeming a bit dazed from disbelief as he followed Castiel out of the room...Only the corridor was askew the moment they stepped in Castiel's human feet slipping beneath him.

He snapped towards Dean and gripped his wrist on instinct as they fell. His wings were frozen in shock as they descended into black. He did, however, wrap them around the both of them as protection at last minute, Dean's soul pressed against his vessel, colder than an actual body would be.

Castiel felt winded when he met the ground, a crack resounding in his ear as pain flared through his wing. He hissed with pinched brows before he relaxed, a soft whimper escaping his lips.

"Why did you-" Dean didn't bother finished his sentence as he slipped from Castiel's arms. He was used to pain, why would the Angel be bothered with saving him. Then again he was an angel, apparently.

Castiel sat up with a grunt, hand moving to his injured wing. He couldn't leave hell without flying up to gateway between hell and earth. They were stuck until his grace and time healed his wing. He felt disappointing failure curl deep in his chest. Is this what vessels made you feel? His lungs felt crushed with the emotion and his eyes burned. He blinked away the shame.

"You okay?" Dean questioned hesitantly.

"Yes and no. Yes, physically I will be fine in a few hours, but no because we can not escape without my wings." He sighed, grooming dust out of his wings.

"Human hours?"

"I would figure so."

"So, days actually. At least, it feels that way."

"It is not a feeling, it is fact. Time in hell is slower then on earth." He admitted, wincing when he flexed his wing.

"Don't move, you broke a bone, right? You have to give it time to rest and mend." Dean insisted and Castiel blinked in slight surprise. He didn't think the rough and ragged man would be so kind as to help him. He must truly be the Righteous Man like Michael said.

"You aren't mad." He observed more then questioned, confused. Those in hell were usually filled with negative emotions, yet this man seemed rational...Maybe because he was used to feeling negative but pulling through. That thought made it hard for him to swallow properly.

"It can't be helped. We'll just have to hide and wait it out." Dean stood from his crouch and shrugged. That only confirmed the Angels thoughts. When the man offered his hand to him, he gripped the palm tightly and pulled himself up. Dean straightened him up when pain shot through his wing, making him stagger into the scent of musk, oil and crackling fire. For a strange reason, it reminded him of the autistic mans heaven when it changed to Autumn on the rare occasion. Almost calming and homely.

Sadly, Dean removed any contact between them once he was steady on his feet, looking around. They were on a gravel crossroad near a shabby and damaged cabin. From the projecting feelings of dread from Dean, he figured it must be one of Dean's hells.

"Crossroad...which means demons. We have to hide!" He said urgently, leading the angel away from the gravel roads and towards the cabin. Castiel's wing burned with pain, but he kept tightlipped and bore it. His grace wouldn't be able to mend it directly, he would have to wait for it to heal itself. Dean ushered the angel into the cabin and closed the door behind them, swatting away cobwebs before he searched around for salt, before realising-

"Of course hell doesn't have salt! Son of a bitch." Castiel grimaced at his tone and the underlying anger that rippled along the room. "Look like we'll just have to...use our fists if attacked?" He looked down at his scrapped and abused knuckles with downcast gaze. "Yeah..." He mumbled. Castiel watched him kick at the wooden floor of the cabin and sighed quietly.

"Do not fret, Dean. I will protect you if needs be. You are to return unharmed to the surface." He reassured.

"Unharmed, that's hilarious." Dean scoffed. "Little late, don't you think?" He snapped and Castiel felt his own frustration build at the disrespect.

"Are you suggesting something?"

"Yeah, the fact that God didn't save me earlier, only when he needed me. Selfish bastard, why bother getting me unharmed when I'm already mentally fuck-" Dean was surprised when a hand gripped around his throat, not choking, simply lifting him off his feet. The Angels eyes burned with a icy blue flame at Dean's words.

"Do not speak in doubt and fury, you should be praising Father's mercy. You may be needed, but I can always leave you here just a while longer, Winchester." Castiel growled and Dean swallowed thickly, fingernails pressing into the flesh of the hands grasping his neck. "Or leave you down here in the pit forever."

Dean nodded slightly, loosening his nails bite as Castiel let him go to feet staggering gently. Castiel took to sitting down by the wall, resting his wing gently against it. He felt Dean's bewildered gaze and looked at him.

"What is it?"

"You - uh - you're really strong." He cleared his throat. "Didn't expect it." The awkwardness practically rolled off him as he turned away from the angel to look outside the dusty window, letting a silent sigh of relief. "It's clear." He told Castiel.

"Then you should rest. My wing will take a while." Castiel said honestly, closing his eyes but not sleeping. The pain was slowly numbing a simmer of heat.

"Rest...? Like, sleep?" The change of tone made Castiel peer one eye open and he felt his stomach flutter. Dean wore a soft smile, his top teeth pressed the lightest bit against his bottom lip and eyes alight of sad amusement.

"Yes, sleep." He answered in the silence.

"I can't remember the last time I slept...I wonder if I still can." He looked desperate for the chance to black out from the horror that was his hell.

"You can." That was a lie. Castiel didn't reveal that though. Lying was a sin, but he felt like this was the reason humans made 'white lies'. Lies to protect or make another person smile. And Dean did smile, dimples in his cheek making Castiel's lip twitch up.

"Thank god. Thanks Cas." Castiel blinked at the shortening of his name, not used to such treatment. Most Angels used their full name as it was the name given to them by their Father and it was to be respected. He knew it was a sign of friendship though for humans and he could feel emotion burst within his chest, not bothering to change the others words.

"You're welcome." He saw the green eyed man strip off his jacket and bunch it up to use as support for his head. The moment Dean closed his eyes, resting on his side and curled into himself like a child, he closed his own and focused on his grace. He knew it would mean he would be in hell longer, but if it eased the Righteous Man's conscious, that was alright.

He brushed his finger tips along Dean's face, temple to his jaw, gentle and soft as he sent the man into a forced sleep. He grunted when the numbing effect on his wing dimmed and brought a stinging heat to the appendages. He bit his lip and bared the pain until it faded once more, his eyes gazing over at the hell-damned man as he rested.

"Sleep well, dear Righteous Man." 

1 HAVEN ACQUIRED


	2. Chapter 2

When Dean awoke, he felt surprisingly well-rested despite his uncomfortable looking resting place. He felt eyes on him and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Castiel. It caught up with him though and he sighed in soft relief. 

"Did you sleep well?" Castiel asked, his voice curious. "What did you dream of?" He couldn't dream and he wondered what it was like.

"Surprisingly, I slept fan-fucking-tastic. I didn't dream of anything though. Probably for the best." Dean wiped a hand down his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Oh...I see." Castiel frowned. He didn't know humans could just...not have dreams. Or maybe it was just Dean because he was in hell.

"You seem disappointed. My dreams aren't that exciting anyway. Don't you Angels dream?" Dean sat up, arms around his X crossed legs with a lopsided smile that Castiel knew would look better on him if he were showered and dressed in clean clothes. It would probably help if his eyes didn't look so dark and dull with hells torture.

"We don't sleep, so we can't dream." Castiel answered. "Our duty is to serve Gods will, fatigue would only distract us." Dean frowned and furrowed his brows.

"You've...never slept? How old are you?"

"I don't believe your calendars date back that far." Castiel spoke honestly.

"I don't know whether to be shocked or congratulate you. Look how long I lasted after all." Dean said bitterly with a meaningless smile.

"Your actions may have been rushed, but...your heart wasn't out of place. You are the Righteous Man for a reason. Your devotion to humanity proves that." Castiel offered a shaky smile, still getting used to his vessel. It fell when Dean laughed, sharp and harsh and empty. 

"'Devotion to humanity'? That's hilarious." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "You obviously don't know me then. I did everything for Sam, and Bobby, and Mom and Dad, the Roadhouse too. Not for humanity. They can burn for all I care." Castiel could sense the truth, but it was warped with lies that Dean believed.

"I don't believe that." He denied Dean's words and found himself shifting closer to the brunet till he was besides him, tilting his head at the silence he received.

"You should. I'm not as 'Righteous' as you think." Dean finally spoke, turning his head to Castiel, noses inches from each other but Dean's gaze didn't waver from Castiel's. "Righteous means that I'm a good person. I'm not that."

"That's what you believe. God is never wrong." He licked his dry lips, the atmosphere crackling with tension, just waiting for one of them to snap at the other. Castiel knew it would be Dean.

"I can say otherwise. God was never there for me before I became useful, not for Sammy despite his prayers." His voice was even, but his emotion leaked through. "I'm not a good man. Righteous is the last word I'd describe myself. I jump into women's beds every chance I get, I drink copious amounts to deal with reality and I've killed some many ghosts, werewolves, vampires, creatures who were once human, that I contemplate if I'm really doing the world a favour, or if I'm just a murderer with fucked up views." Dean's gaze never broke with each confession that slipped from his lips. "Tell me, is that righteous?"

Castiel swallowed down his words, unable to spit them out as he simply gazed at the other and felt his longing slither around them in the air like fog, choking and undeniable. Castiel knew he longed for something, but he didn't know what.

"I believe most men can be forgiven, if only they repent their sins to the Lord and forgive themselves." Castiel whispered, as if afraid to break through the thick fog of emotion and heavy doubt.

"You sound like a priest." Dean whispered back with a breathless chuckle.

"Priests are the ones who spreads Fathers and the Angels messages." A small smile pulled onto his lips at Dean's chuckle. It was soft and weak, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn't explain.

"Would the big guy upstairs forgive a 'righteous' man for anything? Even...if he enjoyed torturing others?" Dean questioned and Castiel knew that should set of a red flag, that he should create distance between the unpredictable man and himself, but he didn't. Instead, he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, knowing Dean's gaze was following the action as the lip popped back into place, teeth making the pale pink tint a shade dark. Then his lips opened and Dean's eyes were back to his as he spoke.

"Depends if it was justice or cruelty." His voice was low and dangerously close to an invitation for attack. He watched Dean's arm raise and his eyes fell shut at the hand, lukewarm on his back. Cool breath fanned against his lips and he couldn't explain the stir in his entire body, like it knew what was happening when Castiel was only faintly aware of his surroundings.

He felt the tiniest brush against his lips before pain seared through his wing where Dean's hand had bumped the injury. He flinched away on instinct, body curling slightly in on himself as his arm went behind him to cover the pained area. His throat strangled out a groan. Dean was silent, unmoving, but a wave of guilt hit him and he frowned. He knew it had been an accident, but it still made him a bit antsy. He didn't let anyone touch him wings, rarely even himself, and he had almost let the human soul do so.

"...You okay?" Dean asked and Castiel nodded.

"I'm fine." One wing came around to cover his huddled-self, feathers soft and comforting.

"I didn't mean to touch your wing...sorry." He cleared his throat and Castiel heard him stand. "We should start moving. If you're gonna be stuck like this for a while, we may as well be near the gate when you're better so we can escape without another breakage." Dean explained.

"Agreed." Castiel folded in one wing, letting the other droop slightly as he stood tall. "I will use my grace to direct us." He suggested, closing his eyes. Dean picked up his jacket and tugged it on as Castiel turned to the door of the cabin and left threw it. Dean sighed and got ready for the journey mentally, following the angel he had tried and failed to kiss in the heat of the moment.

2 HAVENS ACQUIRED


	3. Chapter 3

Dean and Castiel walked along for hours with only small talk and awkward silence, and despite Castiel saying they were heading in the right direction, they were only just finding the end of one of the four roads that made the crossroad. At the end rested a door and Castiel, holding his dragging wing up with a numb yet pained look, reached his hand out to the knob and turned the knob.

Dean swallowed thickly, waiting for what was held on the other side. When they stepped through, Dean was surprised to find that it wasn't what he imagined might be his hell. He looked over to Castiel and found his expression had morphed into something akin to lax horror at the scene. It wasn't his hell, but Castiel's it seemed. Was it even possible for an angel to have their own hell? Unless Castiel wasn't an angel... 

Dean shook those thoughts away. Castiel had proven it to him and had saved his ass from a few broken bones. He shouldn't doubt him unless given a reason. So instead, he watched as Castiel took a step along the dead grass, some of the brown charred black from fiery abuse.

Castiel couldn't utter a word as he looked around at his heaven - no, the autistic mans, Angels didn't get heavens - , too shocked at the scenery. Gone was the luscious spring green grass and dark forest leaves, the once blooming and sweet-smelling flowers wilted away and some no longer even there, charred away from fire and left to ash. Castiel felt a pang in his chest, eyes downcast with soft mourning. The man who occupied the heaven was no where in site, and Castiel knew what that meant.

If he was not in his flourishing heaven, he was in hell. Something the kind and naive man did not deserve. His heaven was disappearing and being remade for another. It made sorrow curl in his stomach. He extended one black wing and flapped it, causing the ashes to fly from the cracked soil. Castiel kneeled by a empty slot between the dying bushes and placed one hand against the dry dirt. It was hard and didn't falter under his palm until he pushed his fingers into the soil.

He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes when Dean's hand cupped his shoulder. He didn't answer the man's words of curiosity to his actions. Instead, he focused his grace into the ground and grunted when the numbing effect left his injury for a few moments as daisies sprouted around his splayed out fingers. His mind felt more at ease when he saw some kind of life within the heaven.

"How did you do that...?" Dean asked in soft awe, reaching his hand out to touch one of the daisies, but Castiel caught his wrist.

"Grace." He replied without letting Dean's wrist go.

"You want me to pray before I touch a flower?" Dean said in disbelief.

"No, it's from my grace." Castiel explained. "Angels have the power of grace, which is a power of creation. My grace is limited while in hell, but..." His gaze drifted towards the daisies that had made an outline of his handprint.

"I understand. This is your hell, right? You didn't want to leave it without a bit of colour if you could do anything about it." Dean slipped from Castiel's grip gently and patted his shoulder. "I'd do the same, but focus on healing up first, okay?" Castiel nodded slowly, standing and looking around his hell scenery with slight disgust. It made his insides churn, the idea that an angel like himself had a hell suited to him...Then again, the same had been for Lucifer.

"We should go find the next door. It is this way." Castiel instructed as he walked left along side the bushes, Dean just a step behind him.

"So...Can I ask where this is?" Dean asked. He was trying his best to make talk with the angel, especially after what had happened that morning (He could never identify the actual time in hell since there was no day or night, but he awoke then, so he dubbed it morning). He couldn't explain what had made him so reckless and forward towards the man. He wasn't into men all that much anyway. Sure, he had glanced, daydreamed of hot guy celebrities, but he wasn't a toucher. Dating and having sex with men just seemed so...complicated. He preferred the simplicity of women because he was comfortable and used to it.

That mornings incident had been chalked up to the fact that he had spent forty years in hell without any physical pleasure. He had been craving any kind of affection, as pathetic as it sounded to himself. Plus, the angel was good looking. If he was going to ever bother with men, he'd pick a dark sex-haired and blue eyed guy any day despite the ridiculous trench coat.

"This is...a heaven."

"Heaven? I guess I understand now since you're an angel." He cringed at the state. 

"Not heaven, a heaven." He clarified. "There is a heaven for each human, sometimes they're shared, but all together they make up most of heaven as a whole." 

"Okay...Why is this heaven so important to you then? Is it yours?"

"No." He said a little too quickly. "Angels do not have their own heaven...I do favour this one to spend time in though. When it's not dying, it's quiet beautiful." He brushed a wilted rose with the delicate care of his fingertips.

"How come Angels don't got heavens? Aren't you guys like...deserving of it? Being all good and holy and that crap."

"We do not have free will like humans. Our will is for God, and in turn, we can not make our own heavens from memories."

"Oh." Dean scratched his nose awkwardly. That sounded...kind of crappy. "Are you...happy with that? That being your life forever and all?" Castiel paused in his stride and turned to Dean with an inquisitive expression, eyes squinted as if trying to see something he couldn't make out.

"Are you asking if I doubt the Lord's wishes?" Dean licked his lips subconsciously, awareness prickling along his skin at the tone of irritation. 

"Well...do you?" He said with a half shrug and Castiel huffed a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I do not have the right to question my father. His will is my will. I am an angel of the lord, my service is for heaven. I was created for such reason." Castiel turned back to walking as Dean followed, frowning, feeling a link of familiarity in the others words when he spoke of his father.

"You didn't answer my question, Cas. Are you happy with that?"

"Are you happy with hell?" Castiel snapped back in irritation, and knew from the silence that he had crossed the line, but he was not going to apologise. He had wanted the other quiet after all. He could not afford to doubt the heavens, not now, not ever. He would not be cast down to the pit like Lucifier, or fall to earth like traitors.

Castiel stepped on softer soil and felt relief, thankful that they were getting to a healthier landscape and hopefully an exit. He didn't escape his next step to break under him though and gravity pull him down. His heart leapt to his throat as he descended down with barely a shout of surprise. He went to unfurl his pained wing when a hand gripped his wrist tightly. He tried to control his breathing after the sudden scare, looking up.

Dean smiled at him as he pulled Castiel up with a grunt, commenting on the weight of his vessel with a groan. Castiel's other arm threw itself around the man's waist as he was raised from the hole of heat under him. Dean flung them to the side of the hole with a burst of strength, panting softly as he laid there with Castiel's head tucked under his chin and elbow digging into his thigh.

"Ease up man, I just 'gripped you tight and raised you from perdition'." He joked with a soft laugh and Castiel's brows furrowed.

"You have not pulled me from perdition, Dean, as I am neither sinful, impenitent nor human. We're also still in the place of eternal damnation." He corrected and Dean rolled his eyes.

"How about, 'I saved your ass, now move your ass off me before I go numb'." Castiel was going to correct that his rear end wasn't on him, but thought better of it and moved his body from Dean's to kneel besides him. The brunet sat up and rubbed his thigh with a sigh. "Jeez, you've got some fucking bony elbows." 

"My apologies." He stood and helped Dean up, looking along the ground. "How shall we proceed? The ground is not trustworthy."

"No shit, it's hell." Dean rolled his eyes. "This is the time that I'd suggest we - I - sleep on it. You should rest your wing anyway." Dean ran a hand through his hand and Castiel followed the movement before nodding.

"Agreed. You sleep, I will scheme." Castiel walked over towards the bench a few meters away and sat as Dean laid on the grass. He shifted at the itchy and prickly feeling of the dead grass and sighed as he tried to settle in for his four hours. Castiel watched him shift around in his discomfort before leaning forward and brushing the man's stubble as he sent him to sleep, moving his injured wing to rest on the metal armrest of the bench. 

He lifted Dean off the dead grass and rest him along the bench, head resting on Castiel's thighs. He hoped the other would find it more comfortable then the hard ground. Castiel rested one arm in his lap and the other laying across Dean's chest, lax as he swam in his thoughts of what to do next.

After an hour, his hand went from across Dean's chest to higher up on his collarbone. The second hour passed, and his wrist curved around so he could gently brush his fingers against the stubble of the sleeping man. After three, the hand in his lap had moved to Dean's messy brown hair, marred with blood and grime. He washed it away with each stroke and light scrape against his scalp with short nails. One the fourth hour, he had chosen an option of escape and was focusing on Dean's peaceful expression.

His hand moved from his stubble to his cheek, wiping the dirt and sweat from it. Once his face was clean, Castiel stroked his fingertips down his neck and Adam's apple, cleaning the impurities on the soul as he went lower, tangling his other hand in honey brown locks in content. He felt the other shift as his palms paused under his shirt, warm against the cooler stomach.

"Dean?" He murmured curiously, untangling his fingers from his hair and instead choosing to flatten the ruffled mess he had made in his daze. 

"Mm?" Dean mumbled groggily, his eyes squinting up at Castiel. "Cas?" Castiel resisted the urge to smile at the tone of content Dean said his nickname with, continuing to move his hand lower as he cleaned the man. It used less of his grace when he was in contact with the being since he wasn't projecting it. Dean didn't seem to like that though, because his stomach tensed and he jolted up to snatch his wrist before it slipped under the waistband of his jeans.

"Woah, woah, sleep-jobs is not my thing man!" Castiel tilted his head, lips open from where he had almost shouted in surprise. Dean was acutely aware of how close their faces were, his head dizzy with the scent of musk and something light and tangy, but his focus was also interested in and panicking at the fact that the angels fingertips were pressed against his well-groomed crotch, barely an inch away from his member.

"Sleep-job?" Castiel furrowed his brows, slipping his hand away from Dean's crotch, not questioning the soft, pleasant sigh the other released.

"You know, jacking a guy off when they're asleep."

"...Jacking? I am not stealing anything." Castiel frowned as Dean gave an exasperated sigh and moved away from the temptation that was the angels pliable pink lips. He stood, pulling his risen shirt down as he did.

"Not stealing, just forget it. Don't touch me below the waist without permission, okay?" Dean felt like he was talking to a child. Angels knew what sex was, didn't they? It was how humans were created after all.

"Okay..." Castiel looked a bit rejected at his words, thinking he had upset the man. "I cleaned you up while you were asleep." He added to try and patch the situation.

"Uh, thanks, I guess." Dean did fell a bit more clean, his hair soft and skin no longer leathery from grime and heat.

"You're welcome." Castiel gave a twitch of a smile as he stood. "I though of a way out."

"Lay it on me." Dean pulled his lips up into a smile as the angel explained his plan, but the disadvantages of it. "If it gets up to the exit, I'll take it. As long as you're fine with it."

"Using my grace to make a path will take away the numbing effect on my wing, but I can adapt."

"Well...after you." Dean shrugged and followed Castiel down his newly made path towards the door.

3 HAVENS ACQUIRED


	4. Chapter 4

Dean arrived at the door with Castiel after a long few hours of walking, hesitant to see the next hell that might await them. 

"Open it." Castiel rasped, looking pale from exertion.

"Woah, you alright?" Dean asked in concern, placing his hand against the Angels cheek to find it damp with sweat. He didn't know angels could sweat, but then again, Castiel looked pretty human.

"Dean, I can't hold the ground beneath us for much longer, open the damn door." He was grumpy when tired, and Dean took note of that for later. He turned back to the door handle and turned it, opening the door to reveal darkness. He gulped and took Castiel's arm as he stepped through, not risking separation this far in the journey.

The darkness revealed itself to be a motel room, one he couldn't identify by name. He could tell from looking around the room that it wasn't one of his recent memories from when he had been alive. Dean turned to Castiel to tell him this had to be one of his hells, not the angels, when a dead weight fell against him. Dean grunted and turned his body around to hold the unconscious angel who had a line of blood dripping down his lips and chin from his nose. 

"Cas...? Cas? Man, this isn't the time to make me worry, wake up, Cas!" Dean bit the corner of his bottom lip with a groan when Castiel didn't wake, his wild raven hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Dean looked up at the ceiling with a frustrated noise. "Thanks big guy, this is just great." Dean lifted the angel into his arms with some effort, walking over to the bed.

He paused, wondering how he should place him. His wing was still injured, so Dean figured starfishing would work. Dean placed his knee on the edge of the creaky mattress rolling Castiel out of his arms slowly as not to hurt him, face buried in the pillow. Dean cupped his jaw and moved his head to the side so he wouldn't suffocate in the pillow. At least the man looked somewhat comfortable, though his nose was still dripping a bit. 

Dean went to the open bathroom door and grabbed some toilet paper, shoving it into the Angels nostrils with a snicker. He watched Castiel rest, but his toilet paper kept slipping out with his breathing. Dean rolled his eyes and stuck it back in before looking down at his lips. They were pierced together in his sleep. Dean hesitantly rose his hand and placed two fingers to the plush pink bottom lip of the Angels mouth and pushed down gently. He waited a few moments before he felt soft breathes against his fingertips and pulled away.

"Angels are so weird." He mumbled to himself, resisting the urge to stare at the blue-eyed vessel.

He stood from his crouch by the bed and looked around curiously, digits grazing along the tiny kitchen bench of the motel room, collecting a thin layer of dust that he wiped away on his jacket. He looked through the drawers, finding them empty or scarce of anything useful. He did find a first aid kit under the sink though, one he remembered from when he was young. 

He eyes widened as he stood slowly with it in his hands. His nails bit into the plastic box as he looked around. He remembered his motel room. This hell...this was the hell in where he almost let Sammy die from a soul-eating bitch. He had left the motel when he was supposed to look away him and he'd almost died. His dad hadn't trusted him for a long while with Sam and barely talked to him for months after if it wasn't for a scolding or job details.

"Son of a bitch." He spat with venom at the memory. He had used the first aid kit to disinfect a claw wound his dad got when they first arrived at the motel. He popped it open and went through the content with vigour, stepping over to Castiel who was sleeping like - well, an angel. One wing was tucked into his side, nestled comfortably, while the other broken one draped off the bed, a small bloodstain Dean didn't notice before crusting the black feathers. 

Dean always thought Angels would have white whites, blank and pure and holy, but he much preferred Castiel's black feathered appendages. There was something more...tainted about it. In a way, it made Castiel more welcoming to him, a man who couldn't dare touch anything pure at this rate. The expanse of shining black feathers were angelic yet dark in all the good ways. Like the darkness Dean sought when he slept, not riddled with nightmares. Comforting.

Dean took out the bottle of alcohol and swab as he sat on the edge of the mattress by Castiel's waist. He popped the bottle open and wondered for a moment if it was safe to drink before dismissing it and dampened the swab with it. He placed his hand gently on the joint of the wing in case the other startled awake, though he doubted it

He dabbed the blood, slowly removing the crusted stain from his injury, absently stroking the glossy black feathers that were like silk under his palm. The wing twitched and Castiel shifted the slight bit at the attention. Despite the delicacy of the limbs, he could feel the power behind them in the simple twitch and continued to run his fingers through the expanse of ebony. 

Once the blood was gone, Dean felt a smile tug on his lip. He always had to patch his own wounds after Sam left for Stanford, and to be helping another with his self-taught skills felt right. Like he was doing something good for once that didn't involve maiming and ganking monsters. 

Dean placed the alcohol and swab away, grabbing a roll of bandages. He was careful not to make the other uncomfortable with misplaced and ruffled feathers as he wound the bandages tightly around the broken bone of the wing. He left out a soft sigh once he was finished, standing with a groan and crack of his back. Bending up and down for an hour would do that. Dean removed the tissues of the angels nostrils and threw them out, wiping away the trail of blood. 

His touch was lingering as he swiped away the blood from the seam of the angels lips, watching Castiel shift his head to tilt downwards into his coats collar. Dean chuckled lightly and moved away with a pat to the stubble of Castiel's cheek, walking over to the other bed. He knew this had been his bed when he was kid when he slipped his hand under the pillow and found a silver blade under it. 

He flopped into the mattress, relishing as his body went lax happily. He closed his eyes and after an hour passed and he didn't fall asleep, he rested on daydreaming. He though of Sam and Bobby, of his Baby, Jo and Ellen, even Ash. He missed them all and wondered how they were doing without him. Probably better then ever. Well, maybe not Sam and his Baby, but he was sure they would be living an apple pie life without him. He hoped at least. When he returned, maybe he'd become a solo hunter again.

After a few hours of thoughts and trying to sleep, Dean heard a creak. His eyes snapped open and cold air made his spine shiver. His eyes traveled over to the wall where he made out the figure of a person. He tempted an actual look before the shadow was swallowed away within another. He reached for the silver blade under his pillow and counted to three before he pounced from the bed and towards the figure.

His blood ran cold at the face of the old hag that had tried to kill Sam as a child. God, couldn't the hag try and use some anti-ageing cream at least? Or moisturiser? His thoughts were halted when she screeched at him and came up close to his face. He fell back onto his rear, dropping the blade under the blood.

"Oh, shoot!" He gave a few curse words as the hag tried to close in on his face, his forearm pressed against her throat as he tried to reach for the silver blade under the bed. Only, it wasn't there anymore. It disappeared before his eyes. "Hell really doesn't give me a break, huh?" He growled and curled his legs up before sending the hag flying into the kitchen bench with his feet. He scrambled to stand and went over to Castiel who was now wide awake and looking downright terrified.

"I can't move." He croaked as Dean tried to pull him up to sit before it was like the angel was glued to the mattress.

"Course not, not like I could let the bosses prize go freely." Dean whipped his head around to the hag, but now it was in the form of a man with slick black hair, tall and golden tanned skin. The man ran a hand through his neat hair, dressed up in a professional suit.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean barked as anger boiled under his skin, hands clenched in the lapels of Castiel's coat.

"This is hell, what do you think?" 

"Demon." He growled under his breath.

"Bingo~ now come on boys, the boss wants a taste of angel blood. Your friend here is a perfect candidate." The demon appeared behind Dean a second later, arm around his throat as Dean thrashed.

"Bastard." He wheezed out, wishing now of all times that he had iron or salt. Instead, he opted for alcohol. He grasped it and popped the bottle open before splashing it in the demons eyes. It gave an irritated yowl as it let go, rubbing it's burning eyes.

Dean pulled Castiel up in the demons moment of weakness, keeping him close as he ran towards the bathroom door. He hoped it was an exit. His back hit the wall with a hard thud and lose of air, gasping for it when he fell back to ground.

"You'll regret that, Winchester." The demon growled in fury, eyes black. Dean wheezed in pain, standing with a broken laugh.

"I got enough of those, thanks but no thanks." He licked the blood from his split lip and charged at the demon, tackling it's mid drift and crashing them both to the floor. He threw punches wildly in his adrenaline, not noticing when Castiel's hand came down upon his forehead and the scenery transformed in a flash of light.

4 HAVENS ACQUIRED


	5. Chapter 5

Dean took a deep breath in and coughed at the icy air in his burning lungs. Gusting winds mused his hair and ruffled his clothes as he shuddered, eyes squinting as he looked through the racing snow fall of the blizzard. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around and looked up just in time to catch Castiel's body. He held the angels body close and relished in the warm pants against his neck where the angels head rested. 

His hand came up to tangle his cold fingers in the wild locks, bloody knuckles marring the tangles. Castiel's pants slowly calmed and it only took Dean a few moments to realise he wasn't awake. Dean sighed, nose in dark hair for a couple of seconds before he pulled his face away, slipping his arms under the angels knees and shoulders, careful of his tucked wing.

He lifted the heavy body, but didn't dare drop the unconscious angel as he streaked through the snow and gusting winds. He had to find shelter before his joints froze or the angel died of pneumonia or frostbite. Castiel was his one ticket to seeing his family again, and he wasn't going to let that disappear. He was dead, so he wouldn't die, only suffer in the icy planes. Castiel wasn't dead though, and he didn't know what would happen to him.

Dean didn't find shelter until his feet had become numb and his shoulders burned with strain, fingers chilled to the bone. It was a small cave, barley big enough to store a van, but good enough. Dean took them as deep into the cave as possible, laying Castiel down on his side and falling besides him. He stared the angels sleeping face, the slightly blue tint of his lips and the snow coating his wings. Dean sighed and brought his trembling fingers through the feathers to remove the snow before taking off his jacket and draping them over the black wings.

He didn't want Castiel's wings frost bitten. They needed them to leave hell and if only one would escape this place, he hoped it was Cas. Hell wasn't a place for an angel, especially not this angel. Dean realised that a fire was out of the question with the weather and sighed, running a hand down his face. Dean laid down besides Castiel with a hiss, the cold ground sending a shiver through his whole body.

He saw Castiel's finger tips start to turn blue like his had an hour ago. He shifted in close until Castiel's hair tickled his chin, taking the angels hands gently in his own and placing them against the warmth of his abdomen. It was the warmest part of him in the moment, and he was desperate to make it out of this situation with the angel conscious and being strange like usual.

His stomach quivered under the chill of Castiel's hands, but didn't pull them away, wrapping him own hands around the Angels to keep them in place. After Castiel's hands began to warm once more, Dean wrapped his arm around the others waist to adjust the jacket on the wings and make sure it didn't fall off. His skin was covered in goosebumps with the chill of the winds outside the cave. He pulled a part of Castiel's trench coat over the arm around the angels waist, seeking any warmth he could gain and give.

Dean buried his nose in Castiel's hair was a soft sigh, grateful for any kind of physical contact after so long. The angel felt of watermelon and cinnamon, something that made Dean confused. Had the angel ever even been on earth? Made it was simply the vessel he was using. That thought made him a little uncomfortable, but he figured that the angel had at least asked before he possessed him... Right? Or maybe angels had bodies to use in a storage? Possible using dead people's bodies? Oh, that was a creepy thought.

Dean shook away his thoughts and instead opted to rest. Sleep didn't come though, as much as he begged for it as his joints froze painfully and his skin became numb yet prickling with pain all at once. Dean didn't even bother with tears, simply bearing through it as the hours passed him by. 

He was on his fortieth hour of long and drawn out torture of weather when he felt the angel in his arms twitch. He tried to voice his greeting, but his throat was hoarse and sore from frigid air and disuse. 

Castiel's eyes fluttered open with a soft groan, body sluggish and tired still, if not a bit cold. He clenched his sore hands only to earn a hiss when his nails scraped against warm skin. He looked up at the noise and found his nose pressed against a stubbled Adam's apple.

"Cas?" The voice cracked and Castiel nodded softly, slipping his hands from under the hunters shirt.

"How long was I out?" Castiel mumbled, not bothering to leave the expanse of tanned skin. Dean swallowed thickly, thankful that the angel was alright. The warmth of his breathy words tickled Dean's throat and made him shiver, causing a whimper to escape his throat when pain shot through his body.

"Bout two days." He mumbled as Castiel sat up, looking at him in concern. 

"You're hurt." He frowned, the jacket slipped from his wings. He looked at the fallen fabric and identified it as Dean's jacket. A mix of guilt and gratefulness filled his chest as he picked it up and draped it over the hunter.

"Thanks." Dean mumbled, pulling it around himself tightly. 

"Why did you..." He didn't know how to accept the kindness. He was usually the one to give and give for his fathers will, not take the kindness of another. He could see now why his father had wanted them to worship humans like himself.

"You were unconscious, so I took things into my own hands."

"No, I mean why did you let yourself freeze?"

"...I didn't want you to freeze. Can't let my guardian angel die after all." He joked half-heatedly under Castiel's intense gaze. The angel laid down again to face him, noses inches from each other. 

"I'm an angel. I would have been fine." Castiel's wings ruffled behind him from a gust of cool wind. He then noticed the bandages on his injury and looked at him inquisitively.

"I patched it up back at the motel." Dean admitted, eyes flickering over his features. "It had bled, so I cleaned and wrapped it."

"How did we arrive here after I teleported?" Castiel asked softly, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach as the thought of the other touching his wings.

"I carried you here." He mumbled. "I haven't been able to get a wink of sleep with this weather." There was silence and Dean closed his eyes in hopes of sleep since Castiel was now awake, only to feel a gentle scrape of nails against his scalp, heat prickling along his frosty skin. 

Castiel sent a light zap of grace through the hunters body, warming him from head to toe. It made Castiel feel weak, but it was worth the lazy smile he received before he pressed a soft kiss to the man's head and sent him to sleep. He didn't have to touch him to make him sleep, make him feel better, but it was a luxury that Castiel rarely got to enjoy.

Castiel stroked his fingers through the short honey brown locks, keeping the other warm against the harsh winds outside the cave. Soon, once the other had awoken, he would find the next door that he knew was hidden behind them. He had sent them backwards instead of towards the gate, something he berated himself for.

As he cradled the grown man contently, his knuckles running along a stubbled cheek, he heard a voice inside him head. 

Michael.

'Have you retrieved my vessel, Castiel?'

'Complications arose, dear brother. He is under my care as we speak. He shall be reborn within two hell weeks.'

'I shall be patient then. Please do hurry, Castiel. We never know when all seals shall be broken.'

'Indeed, brother Michael. Please await my return with eager.' With that, the conversation ended and Castiel resumed his petting of the hunter, if only for a little while.

5 HAVENS ACQUIRED


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit more focused on their growing feelings. When Dean admits he likes him, it's simply light attraction as of now, nothing as deep as eternal love. That'll come later~ haha.  
> P.S: Next chapter will focus a little more on Dean's slipping sanity from hells torture.

Dean awoke a lot warmer then when he was awake. He inhale the spicy yet fresh scent of cinnamon and watermelon, making him dizzy, but it wasn't bad. More like the high kite feeling of being a stoner. He peeled his eyes open groggily, face to face with the beige of Castiel's trench coats.

"You're awake." Castiel stated and Dean could only nod as he pulled from the Angels arms and sat up, looking out to the blizzard.

"We should get going. Who knows when the demon will catch up." He looked down to Castiel who agreed as he stood up, helping Dean up to his feet as well. "So, where's the next door, morning star?" He joked lightly.

"Morning star?" Castiel frowned and looked close to offended.

"Uh...sorry?"

"It is forgiven." Castiel turned away from Dean and pressed his hand against the stone of the cave wall. A door rippled into view. Dean's eyes widened, surprised and impressed.

"So...who's gonna open it?" Castiel looked at him in confusion and Dean rolled his eyes. "I opened a door and got my hell, you opened a door and got yours. You didn't notice?"

"I thought it possible..." Castiel frowned. "Will you please open it?" His hand fell away from the door as if it was on fire. Dean understood why the angel wouldn't want to open it, after all, he was an angel and Angels weren't supposed to have hells.

"Yeah, that's fine." Dean took in a deep breath before he took the knob and opened it, taking the angel by the sleeve as he walked through. He appeared in a small room with one bed spotlighted. He noticed a body on the bed and recognised it immediately.

"Sammy!" He was about to run to his brother, only for Castiel to grab his wrist. "What the hell man? Let me go!" He tried to shake the iron grip as he glared at the angel.

"That's not your brother, Dean." Castiel said grimly, making Dean pause. 

"Right...hell." He licked his dry lips when he realised, stilling. "Sorry...I just- I miss him." Dean looked over at the body of fake Sam and pierced his lips, looking away. "Can we go? Now." 

Castiel sighed softly, shaking his head. 

"We have to wait for a door to appear, there's none I sense here." Castiel let go of his wrist, fingers lingering on the reddened skin before his hands were back to himself.

"Fuck." Dean cursed, running a frustrated hand through his hair and pulling at his brunet strands.

"Do not fret, we will return to the surface soon enough." Dean nodded in agreement bitterly, sitting on the ground.

"Can we...I don't know, just ignore this situation and talk? I know a few things about Angels, but I want to know more about you." Castiel blinked in slight surprise and sat besides Dean, chin on his knees while Dean sat with one knee up and the other leg out, elbow resting on his knee.

"I am not very interesting." Castiel warned. "But if you really want to know, ask."

"Okay...What's your full name?"

"Castiel."

"No, I mean, your whole name."

"Well, my vessels name is Jimmy Novak, so I guess it would be Castiel Novak?" He provided with a small shrug.

"Okay, okay, about the 'vessel' thing, do Angels possess people like demons?" He asked curiously.

"Unlike demons, Angels must have permission to enter a vessel. A simple yes. My vessel was a devoted man who placed his trust in me. He is my true vessel." 

"True vessel? So, you can't just use anyone as a vessel?" 

"We could if we had permission, but they would likely combust if we entered them." He saw Dean bite his lip and his cheeks puff the slightest bit. "What?" He frowned with pinched brows.

"No, no, my dirty mind, don't mind me." Dean chuckled. "Do all Angels have true vessels?"

"Yes, it goes through family lines."

"So, like, could I be a vessel?" Dean seemed perplexed by the thought.

"I know for a fact that you are. You are the true vessel of one of my brothers, Michael." 

"Wait, wait, like- Michael, Michael? Big archangel dude who sent satan to hell?" 

"Indeed. You know of him?"

"Uh, yeah, Sam rambles on sometimes and I like to read when I'm bored." He shrugged as he shifted in discomfort. "That's kinda a weird thought though. Having some angel inside me...I see how people react when they get exorcised after a demon possession." His thoughts drifted over to Meg and how the poor girl had died in his arms. "I feel it would be the same. Confided into the walls of my mind, and that thought terrifies me in all honesty." 

Dean jolted when Castiel's hand cupped his, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. He rose his eyes to meet the others piercing blues.

"The choice is yours in the end. Do not feel forced to do good in the name of the lord when you are a human of free will." Castiel went to pulled his hand away, but Dean held it tight. Castiel's eyes flickered to their joined hands before looking back to Dean's intense stare.

"You're not telling me something." Dean said softly. There was no anger, no hatred or irritation. He was stating what he thought calmly. Castiel could see in the forest green eyes that Dean wouldn't take a no.

"All you have to do is ask, Dean." He reminded.

"...What does God want from me?"

"He wants Michael to use your vessel to stop Lucifer and the apocalypse, to give the world Paradise, where there will only be happiness and peace." He answered truthfully, not breaking their joined gaze.

"God wants me to save the world? Me of all people?"

"Only you can." Castiel reassured. Dean broke their gaze for only a split second to glance at his lips. The air in the room turned stifling to the two. Castiel popped the collar of his dress shirt open to loosen the constricting nature of it just Dean leant closer. Castiel blinked at his action, slightly confused by it before he felt a feather soft sensation along his lips, gentle and hesitant.

He opened his lips to question Dean's purpose, but the hunter sealed his lips over his, affectively swallowing his words. Castiel didn't stiffen or freeze, but he didn't kiss back either or take control. He simply let Dean's lips press against his own in a chaste kiss. When Dean pulled away, Castiel did feel light disappointment in his gut, but he didn't dwell on it as he caught eyes with the male. The silence was torturous to Dean's ears.

"Well?" He cleared his throat.

"Well?" Castiel tilted his head.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Should I?" Castiel frowned.

"Well, normally you'd say if you liked it or not." Dean was getting embarrassed quickly, which he only tried to cover up by raising his voice slowly and sounding irritated.

"It was...pleasant." Castiel decided, looking down at their still joint hands that Dean broke a moment later.

"Man, no one says 'pleasant' anymore. Especially about a kiss." Dean rubbed a hand down his exasperated face.

"But it was pleasant. I enjoyed the kiss. I have yet to question why you would kiss me though?"

"It's cause I like you, idiot. Geez, you angels are dense." 

"Dean, I am not used to human traditions or social constructs. Kissing has never really crossed my mind before."

"...wait, does that mean you've never kissed anyone before?" Castiel was silent. "Come on, you've never done a bit of smooching up on cloud nine? Not even with your angel buddies?"

"The occasion never arose. My will is gods will, so I have never thought to do so..." He admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh boy, I can't wait to teach you more about 'humanity'." Dean's mouth curled into a smirk and Castiel furrowed his brows but nodded.

"I would like to get to know more of humanity. You would be a good teacher since you were once human." Castiel thought out loud and looked to Dean with agreement.

"Great. First thing I'm teaching you is how to kiss, cause kissing with a blank expression is kinda creepy, Cas." Dean chuckled, cupping Castiel's jaw and leaning in both the angel looked away and towards the opposite wall. Dean almost pouted.

"The door has appeared. Shall we leave?"

"Yeah, I guess. Kissing in front of fake Sam is weird." Dean stood up and helped the angel up as they went to the door. Hopefully this next hell wouldn't be too bad.

6 HAVENS ACQUIRED


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly just demon!sam being a dick to Dean.

They stepped through to the next awaiting hell...Only to find themselves in the same room with Sam again.

"Okay, either I'm hallucinating, or we're going in circles." Dean turned to Castiel for some kind of answer.

"No, we're getting close." Castiel answered, looking a confused as Dean was.

"The why are we here...?" Dean slowly made his way over to Sam who rested on the bed, hands and feet chained to the metal frames of it.

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that." Castiel watched him, curious to see his reaction. Dean loomed over Sam's head, looking down at the pale and gaunt image of his brother.

"Sammy?" Dean flinched back when Sam jolted up, turning to him with black, stone eyes. "Sam!" Sam pulled at his chains as Castiel stood closer, ready to push Dean aside if needs be.

"Dean..." Dean sagged in relief when his eyes flickered back to blue-green. He side-stepped around Castiel to crouch by Sam's bed.

"Hey, Sam..."

"This is your fault." Dean fell back on his rear at the harsh words that spat from his brothers mouth, unable to form words with them stuck in his throat.

"Dean-" Castiel crouched down to help him up, but was cut off.

"You left me! I had to sell my soul to get you back, and look what I've become!" Dean looked up as Sam's eyes opened to reveal black, eerie and shining in the dim light.

"I-I told you not..." Dean swallowed dryly as he turned to Castiel. The angel met his eyes, hypnotised by jade green orbs. "You said there was no price...You said there was no price!" His rose in his faux betrayal.

"And there isn't. You have to remember-"

"How do you know he's not lying?" Demon Sam taunted, only fuelling Dean more.

"Yeah, how do I? You could be a demon in disguise for all I know!" His gaze grew cold and voice sharp with assumptions.

"Do not think so lowly of me, Dean. You know what I am. I wouldn't lie to you." His words were followed his crazed laughter from the chained man.

"Just what a demon would say." Demon Sam mused. "This is just pitiful. Dean, Dean, Dean, you always were the weak one. No wonder Dad never trusted you to protect me. You couldn't even kill me when I needed you to. It was his dying wish and you disregarded it like sewage." 

"Do not listen to him, Dean-" Castiel's voice went to deaf ears. He knew Sam had been Dad's favourite, despite not being a hunter as a teen. Dean felt he always failed his old man, his brother too. 

He barely noticed when the weight of a knife appeared in his grasp. His fingers clenched around it, feeling and adjusting. He looked down at it.

"Dean." Castiel's voice held warning. "This isn't real. This isn't Sam, simply the scenery of one of your hells." 

"Don't listen to him." Sam scoffed. "He's a liar. He doesn't care about you like I do." His eyes flickered to blue-green irises. "I'm your brother, look at me." Demon Sam demanded, and Dean obeyed. Castiel pierced his lips.

"Sam's inside you, right?" Dean asked softly.

"Screaming his little heart out. Kill me, kill me!" He mocked with a cackle. "Why?"

"...I wanna talk to him." Dean requested. "Now."

"Dean, I don't advise-"

"Shut it, Cas." Dean glared at the angel - monster possibly - and turned back to Sam.

"Bossy, bossy...But I'll do you favour. This time." The demon chuckled before closing his eyes and giving a few grunts and groans before opening them up again to show panicking blue-green eyes.

"Dean! Dean, oh god, kill me, this demon won't leave- kill me, please." His was frantic and desperate and Dean had to look away. He couldn't stand hearing the pain and fear in his Sammy's voice.

"Dean, the door-"

"Dean!" Dean looked up to meet Sam's eyes, wet and red-rimmed and terrified. "Monsters deserve to die. Please, Dean, kill me." Dean saw Sam's gaze lower and he followed it to the knife in his grasp. Castiel could only watch to see what Dean would do.

"Sammy...Sam, no-"

"Dean, please, only you can-"

"I'm not killing you!" He bellowed. He refused to. Sam's eyes flickered black ones more with a growl.

"God, you righteous souls are fucking pathetic. If you don't kill him, I'll make him suffer before your eyes!" He pulled against the chains until his wrist began to bleed, laughter of a mad man escaping his throat as an audible snap resounded through the room.

"Stop it! Stop hurting, Sam-" Castiel held Dean back, tight and unforgiving.

"This is not real, Dean. Stop your squabble and make haste." The angel growled in frustration, pulling the other further through the room towards the beat up metal door.

"But Sam-"

"That is not your brother!"

"I can fix him-"

"Dean, he's not real, there's no fixing what's not truly broken." Castiel's words finally made the other man silent, squeezing his eyes tight and wishing he couldn't hear the inane laughter and sound of bones breaking, joints popping and blood dripping. It made his stomach churn.

Dean finally dropped the knife in his grasp and watched it clatter as Castiel forced the door open and shoved Dean into the darkness with him.

7 HAVENS ACQUIRED


	8. Chapter 8

Dean opened his eyes to find himself on a hard surface. He identified it as tiles. He slowly sat up, looking around. He was...in a kitchen? More like heaven then hell really.

He stood up with a soft groan, gripping the bench tightly to keep himself upright. He winced at the voices that were filling his head, begs, pleas, sobs and screams, and he couldn't shake them no matter how much he tries to smack and bang them out of his head against the bench. He wiped a hand down his face, groaning at the pounding headache that followed shortly.

"Cas?" He called out with a wince as he stumbled out of the kitchen, looking around. He turned the corner, and found a scenery he hadn't expected. 

It was the stairway. He remembered it because he ran down them like Sonic whenever his dad would get home, or especially when they brought Sam home the first time. He crouched down, partially falling on them from weariness, noticing as his face was pressed against cool wood, that the soles of his sneakers had left a print on the third step where he usually jumped off to hug his dad when he was four.

He was in Kansas, Lawrence. His first house. He was home.

"Dean?" Dean weakly turned his head to look up the stairs at sensible black shoes and the edges of a beige coat. "Dean!" He blinked a few times to focus on the angel and he frowned.

"M'Sorry..." He sounded childish with how small his voice was, it hurt his head to speak any louder.

"Pardon?" Castiel furrowed his brows and sat the soul up.

"Sorry...bout the demon thing..." He had to close his eyes to lessen the constant thrum as the voices slowly dies down. He heard Castiel sigh.

"It is forgiven. Are you alright?" The light fingers brushing softly against the side of his head felt nice.

"Headache, I'll be fine." He mumbled. "I need a shower though." He grimaced. 

"I'm still recollecting my grace and healing, I am unable to cleanse you." Castiel figured he should put himself first this time. They were getting closer to the gate with each doorway and Castiel wanted to leave as quickly as possible so he could return to earth and get to know the truly human Dean.

"Nah, if you could just find a bathtub, I'd appreciate it." Dean pushed himself up to stand, using the rail. Castiel stuck close in case he stumbled, which he did a few times as they made their way up. "I'm sure the bathrooms somewhere around here..." Dean muttered as he opened a door. Thankfully, it was a bathroom like he hoped.

"Do you need assistance?" Castiel questioned.

"Dude, no, I'm not a cripple." Dean waved Castiel's hands away and walked towards the bathtub before he staggered a bit and caught himself on the tap of the pristine white tub.

"No need of assistance?" Was Dean detecting sass? Smug bastard.

"...Could you run the bath for me?" He finally gave in and Castiel did so after some fiddling about. Dean shucked off his jacket and unlaced his boots, kicking them off. 

"Do you need anything else?" Castiel asked curiously.

"Do you know how to wash clothes? That would help." Dean sighed as he pulled his shirt over his head. He looked up at Castiel when he felt eyes on him. The angel didn't even look ashamed as he stared at Dean's tanned torso and strong arms. "Hey, my eyes are up here." He joked, snapping his fingers in front of the Angels face. Castiel slowly drew his eyes back up to his.

"I know." He stated calmly. "I was...admiring your core." He admitted.

"Core?" Dean questioned in confusion as he unbuckled his jeans. He wondered what would make the angel blush, because he seemed pretty stone faced.

"Every soul has a center. A core, so to speak. Yours is...beautiful." Okay, Dean would admit, he knew thought he'd be called beautiful by a guy, but he liked it. It was so...Cas-like.

"Uh, thanks. You too?" He dropped his pants and kicked them aside. The Angels eyes flickered to the movement, but went right back to his eyes.

"I'm an angel. I don't have a soul. Only humans do." 

"Is that why you aren't all white wings, halos and harps?" Dean joked as he thumbed the waistband of his boxers.

"I don't have a harp. White is Michael's colour, not mine. Angels have many colours of wings in various shades. Unique to each angel...Halo's are only given to saints, nuns, priests and martyrs, for they believed and are holy enough to receive one attached to their soul." Castiel explained and Dean listened with slight interest before he tugged his boxers down. He waited for Castiel's reaction, only to receive a confused look. "You're expecting something." Castiel noted.

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged and laid back against the sink, mostly for support.

"...Are you trying to tempt me with intercourse?" He tilted his head in confusion, sensing the waft of curious lust.

"Man, you totally killed the mood using that word. 'Intercourse'. Ugh." Dean slipped into the tub (almost literally) and grabbed the soap to clean himself up. The voices had diminished to a low hum, which helped with his headache.

"I though only the promiscuous did such things before unity." Castiel said as he crouched by the tub.

"What? No, almost everyone I know didn't wait till marriage, and trust me, I've met a lot of people." Dean cracked his neck as he rubbed soap over his arms. "People date, that usually includes sex and kissing, the works. A few arguments here and there for most couples." 

"You humans are strange, but in a good way." Castiel noted and Dean laughed softly as he rested back in the tub. "You mentioned kissing. Would that mean you and I are 'dating' each other?" 

"...I guess, if you want to. Like you, you're weird, but in a good way." Dean chuckled, looking over at the angel who was already looking at his faces, eyes focused on his cheek. He wiped it and Castiel looked back to his eyes.

"I'm glad to think of me in such regards." 

"You and your old-timely speech." Dean rolled his eyes in amusement and wrapped his hand around the blue tie hanging form Castiel's neck before tugging the curious angel down. Castiel got the hint once lips pressed against his own gently. Dean didn't feel like rushing right now. He needed senerity, and this kiss was one step closer in his mind.

Castiel's wings ruffled with a soft noise as he pulled away from soft tanned pink lips. He began counting the hunters freckles again like before, before Dean interrupted him. Dean looked away though and Castiel chewed his inner lip when he lost count.

"Bathe, I will find a place to rest until I sense the next door." Castiel left with that, and Dean could only watch him go.

~~~

Dean awoke to Castiel shaking his shoulder. The room was dark.

"Dean, I sense a demon... It is in the nursery."

"Nursery...?" Dean mumbled groggily as he thought about it. "Sam!" He realised instantly what this hell was supposed to be. Reenacting the death of his mother. He wanted to scream and gut whoever planned this. Dean jumped out of the bed and ran out of the room, Castiel hot on his heels. 

"Your brother?"

"This night- this is the night my mom died. Sam was in the nursery, I have to go get to them before mom walks into the nursery." He said urgently, rounding the corner to see Mary running past them. "Mary!" He called, but she didn't reply. So he ran after all, reaching out to grab her before she walked into the nursery, but...he went right through her.

"No..." He looked at his hands, normal to him. But he couldn't grasp his mother as she walked in. Maybe he could still stop that yellow eyed bastard. Dean ran into the nursery just as Mary saw the shadowy figure, and lunged at the demon, yet he only went through, hitting the ground with a groan. "No...No, no! No, shit! Mom-!" 

He could only watch as she was lifted onto the ceiling. His father came in not long after, and that's when the flames encased the room. Dean scrambled over to the crib where Sam laid, waiting for his dad to grab Sam, but John didn't. He stared in horror at Mary and didn't move. Dean growled.

"Get up! Get up and leave with Sammy! Moms gone!" He barked at the man, but he didn't hear him. So Dean tried himself, bending down to pick up Sam form the crib, but the baby went through his arms like he was a ghost. "Shit..." He cursed. 

Suddenly, he felt it.

Fire. It was agony, flickering and blistering and popping the skin of his legs - Dean let out a yowl of pain as his legs stiffened and skin leathered with a leathery coat of flesh, falling to his knees.

Castiel's voice barely met his ears, but his touch was like ice to a burn, frigid and prickling. Dean whimpered pitifully, hand buried in the lapel of his beige trench coat, cheek brushing the fabric of his mid-drift.

"Are you alright?" Castiel pulled the man up from under his arm, holding him close as he looked around the find the door. Dean didn't answer nor nod, and Castiel felt dread course through his being.

He backed away from the crib, but Dean's other hand was holding the edge tight. "Sammy..." The hoarse desperation made Castiel's chest contract, hard to breath, but he pulled Dean's hand away from it despite his protests.

"This isn't real, Dean." He felt like he had said that a lot recently. Humans were difficult creatures, but he hated seeing Dean sad. "Close your eyes, I will make it go away." The baby's cries pierced through the crackling flames and Dean let Castiel go to grab the side of the crib and look inside at his baby brother.

He could remember when his father passed Sam to him and told him to run. He had to urge to protect his little brother ever since. Dean looked to the door, waiting for his young self to run in and get Sam, but he didn't come. Anguish tore through his chest.

"Why aren't I saving Sam? Why aren't I saving Sammy?!" Dean could never forget Sam, never, so where was he? He stared up at Castiel through wet eyes, heating making his face burn and body sweat. Castiel only shook his head.

"In this hell, you face your biggest fear. Being alone." Dean's mouth was dry and throat clogged as his gaze trekked along the room. John and Mary had been consumed by the flames, and he wasn't able to save any of them. He'd be alone. No Dad. No Sam. He didn't want to be alone.

"Why...?" His voice crackled with the strangled question.

"We must go, Dean. This is all just a nightmare. An expression of your fear. Take my hand, and I'll take you away from it." He offered his calloused hand to the soul. Dean stared at the angel, light of the fire forming a terrifying halo around the wild dark hair. Dean raised his hand clasped Castiel's in a painfully firm grip. With a broken smile, Dean spoke.

"I'm not alone, am I? Got a guardian angel on my side. So hells doing a crap job." Castiel smiled softly, pulling Dean up and into his arms, stepping over to the dangerous orange curtains of the window.

"No, you're not." They fell through the window with hitched breaths.

8 HAVENS ACQUIRED.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean opened his eyes slowly, only to find himself resting on a bright white cloud. A typical image of heaven, he thought. The clouds where like pillows, but not crappy motel ones, more like those expensive honeymoon suites. Damn, who thought of such a sweet ass heaven? Dean rose his head to be faced with the back of a beige trench coat.

"Cas?" He asked softly to the still angel. Had they escaped from hell and transported to heaven, or was this all a sick and twisted kind of trick?

Dean stood up slowly, brushing himself off. His legs felt better, almost as if the fire never happened. Maybe the pain was exclusive to only that hell. Dean shook off his thoughts and stepped besides Castiel, following the angels gaze. He gaped.

"How is he even alive?! Or maybe he's dead, and this is his heaven..." Dean twisted his foot into a cloud just to be an ass. Like he could forget the sweet toothed, janitor disguised trickster. Almost killed them with that chainsaw freak and badass hot girls. Dean turned and saw that Castiel was watching with a distant look. Dean slowly placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort, when voices reached his ears.

"I will not stand by either of you. This war is childish, and that's coming from me." He didn't think he'd ever see a serious expression on the trickster, but then again, he had to wonder why he was in either of his or Castiel's hells.

"You will have to choose a side soon, Gabriel. When you do, just call for me. I know you'll pick the right side. Father's side." Unlike the trickster, the other who spoke he didn't know, but he had dark hair and deep blue eyes. He looked like his dad when he was young, but his nose was slightly crooked and his skin tanned naturally.

"Oh, aren't you two just lovely. Bickering like an old married couple." The third spoke with a harsh venom at first towards the second, but addressed Gabriel, pushing blonde hair out of his eyes, with sincerity. "Gabriel, you are my brother. You always have been. I will not force you to join my cause, but you must see why I must disobey fathers words." 

"You don't have to do anything." Gabriel snapped, pointing an accusing at the two. "You're right. We're brothers. So I don't see why you can't put your foolish pride away and listen to father. You know what will happen, Lucifer. You will not win this war. Destiny's a bitch, and she knows you'll lose."

"So, what? You want me to bow to these lowly humans, filled with flaws and vile intent?" Lucifer scoffed. "Not on my life. If I am the first to fall, I will bring garrisons of believers with me. If only to prove a point. I will only ever worship father, love him and work for his word, never for humans I could snap anyway with a click of my fingers." 

The dark haired angel glared at Lucifer as the blond vanished from the clouds.

"You will choose to fight with Lucifer, or I. If you're not on my side or even his, you fall either way. As an angel, and as a solider." The angel told Gabriel gravely, looking at him with determination in his gaze before disappearing. The trickster, Gabriel, could only sit down on the pillowy clouds and stare at his hands. Dean felt a little sympathy for the guy. Choosing between your brothers would be hard.

He noticed Castiel move from his grasp and Gabriel's head snapped up to look at Castiel as if he was a parent being caught crying by their child.

"Cassie." Gabriel smiled thinly and Castiel sat by his brother with ease, his hands hesitant to touch to others.

"Gabriel..." Castiel said in return.

"How long you been hiding?"

"I wasn't."

"You should be lucky Mikey or Luce didn't catch you." 

"Don't call them that..." 

"Yeah, I'm sorry kiddo, I wish you didn't have to be apart of this war. You're only new to being an angel."

"I didn't mention..." Castiel licked his lips. "This isn't real...this is just a recording." Castiel said bitterly.

"Hey, chin up, Mikey won't let you get killed by any of the rogues, you're perfectly safe under his wing. Everyone loved little Cassie after all." Gabriel ruffled the others hair and Castiel drooped the slightest bit. He rested his head on the others shoulder, missing the Angels grace. It was soft, humming under the skin and warm like the spring sunlight.

"Hey, Cassie...I don't think I'm gonna be in heaven much longer." He remembered this. He knew what was coming soon, but he couldn't bare to rewatch it. He had to look for another door. "No, I'm not going to join Luce. I wouldn't go against dads words...I'm not joining Mikey either." Gabriel licked his dry lips with a sigh following shortly.

Castiel was silent, knowing what he would do next. Gabriel wrapped an arm around the once fledgling, wings a golden trio as they ruffled and fell over Castiel like a warm blanket. He could feel the warm breath of the archangel against his wild dark hair, and melted into it.

"I'm going to go to the humans, Cassie. A secret between us, okay spud?" Castiel could only nod, wishing his brothers wings wouldn't leave his presences. He almost forgot about everything in that moment. Gods command, the apocalypse to come, paradise, the battle, even Dean and Michael. He wanted to soaked in the presences of his brother, because he knew what would happen next.

"You're a good fledgling, Cassie, so don't do anything stupid while I'm gone...Don't forget my number one rule."

"'Follow your desires, because they'll likely make you laugh more.'" He remembered it. He never truly followed it after Gabriel...after everything.

"Exactly...Goodbye Castiel." Gabriel vanished before he could even grasp his hand, beg him not to go, but it was too late. The scene was already changing.

"Cas, who was that?" Castiel looked up at Dean from where he sat on wooden tiles now. Dean never thought he'd see the angel look so lost, like he could burst into tears any minute, but Castiel only stood in silence. "Cas?" Dean hesitantly stepped closer, cupping the others face. "Talk to me, angel. Who was he?" Dean knew he was important, or else the angel wouldn't look so silently distraught.

"...Gabriel. My brother. He's...he was the first angel to die in the war." Dean's slipped his hand back into the others hair and held him close, letting him mourn into his jacket. Dean slid his eyes up to the scene behind Castiel and understood. The archangel had charcoal black wings etched into the wooden tiles, a silver blade tainted with blood to the side. A note on the body say 'From Ambroza', likely an angel from one of the sides.

Dean wanted to say, 'but he was a trickster', but he didn't want to give Castiel false hope. For all he knew, the trickster could have been the Archangels vessel, or copying the image of Gabriel.

"I'm sorry Cas, so sorry..." Dean rubbed the Angels back, looking at the flickering body in front of them. "Come on, let's get out of here." He side stepped Gabriel's body, trying to shield the sight from Castiel as they got to the brown door.

Dean pulled the door open and braced himself to the next room.

9 HAVENS ACQUIRED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wonder, Gabriel isn't actually dead, he made a deal another angel to fake his death so the others wouldn't search for him. The angel 'Ambroza' was killed for the treachery, but that had been her wish from the beginning, to end eternal existence.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's next hell features a certain past love that leaves him in the arms of his new angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooo sorry for leaving this un-updated for a month! (Possibly longer) Ive been a bit busy and uninspired until I read his fic called 'Stay With Me' by LunarAsylum. I don't know what triggered me to write this chapter, but it happened while reading that. I suggest you read it, it's a Samstiel/Sastiel, but I quite like it.
> 
> Again, sorry and enjoy!

This time, they didn't fall or stumble or jolt in their landing. This time it was more like they'd stepped into hell, for the first time on this crazy journey.

Dean looked around, at the new burgundy curtains that he remembered like yesterday, ones that were covered in dust last time he saw them. The black leather armchair sat in the room, like it belonged. He remembered sleeping there when the parents refused letting him stay in the bedrooms after late night tutoring. Yeah, like they actually studied. Maybe once or twice they did before Dean and her were locking lips like the sexually frustrated teenagers they were.

Dean turned to the staircase, slowly making his way up the stairs, almost forgetting about Castiel as he ran his fingers over smooth brown railing. He could hear the voices, foggy and distant as Castiel's footsteps were.

"Dean?" He wanted to turn to the angel, to answer the curious call, but it's as if he was being controlled, drawn to the corruption coming from the bedroom.

"You're crazy!" Cassie. Oh, that voice. He knew this moment. This scene was the first time he'd experience heartbreak. "Do you really expect me to think that's why you're leaving?! You asshole!" Cassie had never yelled at him before this. He could remember it crystal clearly. The words that broke his heart when he tried to refute.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene with a blank face. He looked young, yet so grown up all at once. Almost like a damn rugged ken doll. Cassie...Cassie looked like a Disney princess even with her messy hair and rumpled clothing, even if it was only underwear and a tank top. Her dark, frizzy hair framed her face and her lips were plush and soft despite her anger.

"What? So I open up myself to you and you're just gonna call me a lunatic?!" Young Dean snapped back, already pulling his shirt back on and grabbing his jacket.

"Yes!" That word made his younger self still. "Yes...Because you are. I don't want to continue this with you if you're gonna lie to me." Cassie started to cry, and he knew that his younger self wanted to hold her close and let her cry all she could before they kiss and make up like usual.

"What is this, huh?" His younger said instead, making him want to curl into himself, ignore the words that come next.

"It's not love, that's what it is!" He had to bite his own lip, head knocking against the frame of the door as he closed his eyes. He didn't want to see his younger self storm out of the room with his things, tears he hadn't shown Cassie in his eyes. Seeing it all again was like rubbing salt in a wound.

"Dean." Dean slowly slide his eyes open again, turning around to the angel. And Castiel held his glossy gaze like he was reading every single fact in Dean's being. He hated it, but couldn't look away from the intense blue eyes that shone with a soft glow of grace. As if he was trying to heal every bit of agony in Dean's centre with only a flicker of ever endearing orbs.

When he finally looked away, he could feel the dribble of a slow tear running down the bridge of his nose, hand coming up to cover his eyes from the angel as polyester arms enveloped him.

"You hug someone when they cry, right...?" Castiel sounded uncertain, but his grip was firm around the righteous man. Dean could barely nod, trying to keep his sobbing as silent as possible, but the hitches and trembles could be felt. Castiel could only cradle the taller man's head against his shoulder, eyes closed as he tried to console him. He didn't know the words to help, nor the action to improve his mood, but he could at least give Dean the physical comfort he desired.

"How much longer...? How many hells do we have to go through before its over?" He hissed out, hands curling into fists on the waist of Castiel's coat. He wanted to smash something, to break everything that once might have hurt him.

"A little while longer. I don't know how many hells we'll face, more the dangers or hurt it will give, but I will be there. If there is anyone you can count on right now, Dean, it's me." Castiel promised, fingers cascading through honey brunette locks.

"...Thank you." Dean said roughly, not daring to move his head as he unfurled his right fist to slip his hand into Castiel's. The angel seemed hesitant, perhaps perplexed, in his response before cupping his calloused palm as well. Castiel's - his vessel he figured - hand fit perfectly with his when he links their fingers, nose pressed lightly against the stubble that prickled Castiel's neck. It itched, but Dean didn't care all that much in the moment.

"Do you want to go now or...would you like to take a break?" Castiel said softly, nails tracing the vertebrae down Dean's neck, sending an involuntary shiver down the righteous mans spine and across his broads shoulders like a lapping wave on the shore of a beach.

"Rest. Please." Dean lifted his head slowly, and Castiel ignored the red-rimmed green eyes and small wet patch on his shoulder in favour of slipping his hand around Dean's nape to cup his cheek. He wiped the tear stains with the pad of his thumb, his heart aching in empathy for the soul.

No words were exchanged when Dean's lips fell upon Castiel's, and none were needed. Castiel didn't mind when salty teardrops snuck into the creases of their fused lips, didn't bat an eye when Dean had to pull away a few inches just to take in a shaky breath and calm himself before slotting their mouths against each other's once more.

For once, Castiel was glad that hells time was so slow compared to earths and heavens. It meant the lips on his could kiss him longer, that the hands curled into the back of his trench coat and caging him against the souls form could hold him as long as Dean pleased. His fingers were tangled in the soft spikes of Dean's hair, his thumb running over the same spot of his forehead on repeat, almost as if he was petting him. Dean didn't complain, or even make a noise of offence at it.

Instead, he deepened the kiss, Castiel's lips parted enough for him to lure the others tongue to play with his. Their stubbles rubbed against each other's in a way Dean found irritating yet hotter than a overheated engine, dominating the kiss. He figured kissing an angel like this would have had him smited by now, especially since the soft moans he was pulling from Castiel's lips were anything but holy.

Dean pulled away to breathe, not because he had to he noticed, but because it seemed like a human thing to do. Castiel was somehow able to pull off the debauched yet calm expression like a champ, because besides the reddened lips and and flushed cheeks, he wouldn't think Castiel had just been devoured by the renowned Dean Winchester. His natural sex hair could make it seem so though.

"Damn, Angel, you're a frickin' gift." Dean chuckled, forehead pressed against the angels. Castiel hadn't stopped his petting, but had moved it from his forehead to his golden brown hair.

"Thank you...Human." Castiel squinted his eyes slightly, confused, but Dean could only grin.

"I can't wait to bring you up to meet Sammy and Bobby." Dean snickered. "They'll love you." He sounded sarcastic, yet fond as he thought of his family. Maybe Castiel could meet Ellen, Jo and Ash too...

"You wish for me to meet your family?" Castiel questions, though his words were laced with awe and perhaps surprise? Dean can't really tell.

"Only if you want to. I figured this was kinda...exclusive, y'know? Unless you're only into the physical side of this, then maybe we should just end-"

"Dean, did you want to put a title to our interactions?" Castiel furrowed his brows. "I like to think we have formed a...profound bond since meeting." 

"Well, what does that profound bond mean to you?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck, sighing softly. He really didn't want this to be a sex only thing. Maybe angels didn't even feel romantic feelings...

"Well, if I had to put it with the human knowledge I have, I'd say it would be like a relationship built on trust and mutual fondness. Though, I do like the kissing, so I could add that into the entailing's of the profound bond." Castiel answered, smiling almost shyly at Dean.

"God, I feel a chick flick moment coming on." Dean joked, trying to cool the heat that was rushing to his face.

"What does my father have to do with this conversation?" Castiel furrowed his brows, tilting his head cutely.

"Nothing, Cas, nothing at all...Let's take a nap, rest a bit and then head off again. I wanna show Sammy and Bobby my new angel." 

"You've met another angel in the past?" Castiel only seemed more confused.

"It's a term of endearment, Cas. Angel means either the species, a sweet person, or your partner."

"Like in a relationship?"

"Yeah, Cas, like in a relationship. We're in a relationship. You'd be my boyfriend, as disgustingly sweet that sounds." Dean grinned lightly.

"...I like that word." Castiel smiled with the innocence of a child, making Dean want to squeeze him in a hug. Instead, he pulled the angel into the now empty bedroom and laid on the soft purple sheets. He was emotionally exhausted and just wanted to relax. With his eyes closed, he felt Castiel kiss his forehead before he was out like a light.

10 HAVENS ACQUIRED


End file.
